Choose Your Own

"Maybe Christmas, he thought, doesn't come from a store. / Maybe Christmas, perhaps, means a little bit more!"

-Dr Seuss, How the Grinch Stole Christmas

She might only be six years old, but she was smart.

So when her first-grade teacher handed out their holiday project to everyone at the table—a white tree to color and decorate any way they liked (she went for the real paints and then lots of stickers)—and then asked each of them, what's the best part about Christmas? she knew it was a trap.

Milo, her best friend, said wearing the pretty costumes. And then he said presents! in a rush like the first one was the wrong answer. And most of the other kids said presents too, because the teacher wrote it on the board for everyone to copy as best they could on the lines printed at the bottom of the page.

But she wasn't a dummy.

The best part about Christmas was Mom and Dad.

Her teacher looked sort of pleased and sat beside her and gave her a patient smile and helped her spell it correctly under her tree.

Mostly it had sounded like a better answer than Santa and cookies and even the Christmas program. But as she worked on getting the 'a' to make it's pointy hat, she realized:

the best part about Christmas was Mom and Dad.

She had a list for Santa, of course, who didn't? But if she got everything on her list but her parents were gone like Home Alone and she had to go live with Milo's mean mom, that would be catastrophic. And her Big, Alexis, was always saying, you don't know how good you've got it.

She was pretty sure no one else had a Dad who made reindeer out of pancakes and snowmen from marshmallows, but who also helped her make Santa's elves from gingerbread men whose heads had been lopped off and replaced with the cookie from the alien cookie cutter all because she liked aliens best.

And dinosaurs. It was a toss-up. He'd been ready to make dinosaurs too, but the aliens were easier.

And Mom. Mom was better than getting a real fast scooter like Alexis's, because Mom was the one who promised to teach her how to drive the motorcycle (when she was Big too). Mom was the one who indulges us said Dad, picking up her dinosaur books from the library which Daddy read at bedtime because he said plot structure was critical during this stage of velopment. (That was a kind of velociraptor, she was sure). She and Mom ate the marshmallows and the pancakes and Mommy even figured out the powdered sugar for snow, and not once did Mom say no we can't do that like Milo's mom always did.

She was pretty sure no one else in her school had a mom who was in direct contact with Santa because of her job as a Captain of a whole entire police building, and she was also certain that none of the kids got to listen to the elves on the police scanner with their moms at night, tucked in together in the great big leather couch in the office while Dad wrote his world famous books.

Certainly not Milo. Who was her very best friend.

Other kids didn't have it so good, and as she finished writing Mom's name, staring hard at her Christmas tree, she wanted, very badly, for all the other kids at her school to have something.

Something like this.

But especially Milo whose mean mom was always telling him no.

What's Christmas about? her teacher said from the front of the room. They had decorated a tree for the classroom with ornaments they'd made and her teacher had told them they would get to take them home after the Christmas program, and she'd been so excited about giving it to her Mom and Dad. About hanging it on her Christmas tree at home.

It had seemed like a very big thing.

Giving people gifts, Milo answered.

Almost. The teacher smiled smiled smiled. Milo, you're on the right track. Giving gifts, that can be part of it, but maybe just giving our love? The whole point of this season, in the middle of the dark and cold winter, is to warm each other with our love. Not necessarily a fancy present or an expensive gift. Sometimes this means simply sharing what you already have.

When they had both used the glitter on their ornaments, Milo for the wings on his angel, and her for the unicorn's horn, Milo had said he wanted her to have his ornament. Not his mom. She don't like glitter. Or fairies.

She'd thought it was an angel.

But she was six, and she actually knew what the best part of Christmas was. My mom and dad.

She couldn't give Milo her family. But she could do one Very Big Thing for Christmas. To share what she had.

When she got to school the next day, she detached herself from Mom's hand and ran for the doors.

"Don't I get a hug good-bye?"

"Nope! Later!" She was too excited about her Christmas present. She ran through the double doors and yanked the hat off her head, stuffed it into her coat pocket. Milo was already standing in line to be checked in by the Head of School, and she sidled up to him and sort of skipped the line.

No one protested; they were all too excited about the Christmas program this afternoon. Most of them had been dressed in red velvet dresses with black shiny shoes and ruffles, the girls anyway, and well, Milo, of course, because he liked dresses better.

"Oh, that's pretty," she said. She hated scratchy dresses. This morning, Mom had let it go, but Daddy had pulled a sad face when she'd refused the holly green dress with the collar. She was six not a baby, and she was wearing her unicorn tights and the long sweater that was like a dress, which had a black cat face on it (which she had also worn for the All Hallow's Eve program but hush).

"Just ignore the sweatpants," Milo said, but he was all big smiles and turning slowly in place so she could see the full effect of the velvet skirt. "I love it. It's so soft and pretty."

"It really is pretty," she promised. "Can't believe your mom let you."

"Thanks, but that's why the sweats," he said, rolling his eyes. He gave her a look. "The black cat is, as always, very you. I expected a dinosaur though."

"Couldn't find my dinosaur sweater. But did you see the unicorns all over my tights?" She stuck a leg out so he could inspect, and a girl behind her, Madje, crowded in too. Everyone liked her unicorn tights; her Big had gotten them for her last year for her birthday. Alexis was very very cool, and everyone knew it.

Milo was going to love his Christmas present.

Head of School, Ms Cinder, called Milo forward to get checked in, and she came with him, bouncing on her toes to hurry things up. (Fact: it did not work. Fact: she felt like it worked and Dad said that was magic enough.)

Once they were free, she and Milo held hands and sprinted down the hall before any of the teachers could catch them, backpacks thumping on puffy coats. At the door of their room, she stopped him with a panting breath and unzipped her bag. "I got something for you. For a present."

"Something—" He gasped as the silvery sequin skirt came slithering out of her backpack. "You are not giving me your skirt, your favorite, favorite skirt from your mermaid costume."

"Merry Christmas," she told him, a pang as it passed her hands. Mermaid no more. (But it would be okay, it was okay; that was last year's Halloween costumer anyway; she only wore it once a week.) "I want you to have it."

Milo clutched it to his chest, his dark eyebrows like wings as they shot up. "This is a huge thing. It's your favorite."

"It wouldn't be Christmas if it wasn't a huge thing," she told him.

Milo gripped the skirt tighter, his eyes going wide. "I didn't bring yours to school. I made my mom get you one of those aliens you can do an autopsy on, you know with the alien organs you can pull out like slime?"

Her jaw dropped.

He winced. "She wasn't super convinced. She said we'd see you at your parents' Christmas Party and bring it then."

"That's okay!" She was now very pleased with this Very Big Thing idea. "That's a totally awesome gift."

"Soon." Milo threw his arms around her and squeezed hard. "Thank you. Thank you. I'm so excited."

Well, okay. It seemed like it actually worked. She could give something.

After the Christmas program, Mom came to her classroom to collect her. "You did such a good job, baby." She cupped her face and kissed each cheek. "Did you have fun? You made a clever sheep."

"I wasn't stoked about the sheep," she said, letting her mom pull her coat on her. "I'd rather have been a dinosaur, but Ms Louis says there were no dinosaurs."

"That seems likely, as a dinosaur would've eaten the baby in the manger."

"Oh, yeah okay. That could be true." She stepped away to keep Mom from doing the zipper, which was her job, and she concentrated on lining it up right. "I guess I had fun as a sheep. I got to sing the Baa Baa Baa song with Milo, just the two of us. We glammed it up some."

Mom chuckled. "You and Milo made an excellent team. Dad said Sonny and Cher."

"Share what?"

"It was a singing duo. Dad can show you videos on his phone. You got the zipper, little raptor?"

"Got it." She remembered at the last minute. "Hang on!" She swung back for the classroom Christmas tree and plucked her ornament off. Her teacher came over with a little box for it and she brought it proudly back to her mom. "I made this for you and Dad. For the tree."

"Wow. Can I look at it now?"

"When we get home," she said. "So we can all see it together."

"Sounds fair. You ready to go?" Mom was gathering her backpack and the hat, which had fallen out of the coat. She stuffed it in her own pocket and didn't even say anything about putting it on.

She took Mom's hand and waved to Milo, whose mom had just come to pick him up. Milo had tucked the skirt into his sweatpants, and he didn't wave back.

Daddy was waiting just outside, shaking hands with someone who had recognized him. He waved them over with a big grin, scooping her up and squeezing hard before he put her down again. "Hey, there's my diva sheep!"

"And what a diva," Mom added. "They did a great job with their musical number."

"Me and Milo!"

"You and Milo, yes, poor kid, you both did a great job," Dad said, kissing her cheek. "You ready to go?"

She nodded, enjoying the feeling of holding the hand of her important dad as they headed for the doors. Dad's fan said a good-bye—he was carrying one of Dad's books under his arm—and two kids she knew were coming up to him with their other dad.

"Oh, that's Robbie and Ginger's Pops," she said, patting her dad's hand. "I know him."

"Well, apparently he knows us," Dad said, that tone in his voice that said he was trying to be amusing for Mom's sake. "It was fine. I don't mind it."

Mom said nothing.

Dad had called the car service, which was a special treat for her Christmas program, and she sat between them on the booster seat that Hasan always brought with the car, just for her (she was tall, but she weighed next to nothing Dad said). Dad pulled out his phone and showed her videos of Sonny and Cher, which she loved, and she tried to imitate the way Cher swung her hair for the whole car ride.

"Okay, okay, we're home. Enough of this." Mom opened the door and snagged the phone out of Dad's hands, stepped onto the sidewalk. "Come on, children."

Dad unbuckled her from the booster seat with a grin, winked at her, so she flung her hair like Cher and they both laughed. "Bye, Hasan! Happy Christmastime. Merry New Year!"

"And same to you all!"

Dad held her hand as they followed Mom inside the apartment building, and Eduardo gave her two thumbs up. "I heard you were a marvelous sheep."

"I really was." She beamed and waved as they headed for the elevator, wondering now if Eduardo and Hasan had gotten Christmas presents.

"Daddy, do we give Eduardo and Hasan presents for Christmas?"

"We do," Dad answered. "Remember Mom had you draw Eduardo a picture of a velociraptor with a Santa hat?"

"Oh!" She chewed on her lip as the elevator rose. "But we gave him more than that, right?"

Mom laughed. "We did, raptor. A meal for his family from one of his favorite places, and some cash as well."

"Oh. That's good, right? Like an allowance."

"Like a bonus," Dad huffed. "But sure, an allowance."

"I drew a picture for Hasan too, I remember that now." She was relieved; she hadn't actually thought of Hasan and Eduardo… and there were others too. So many people. She wondered if that was why Dad had signed Robbie and Ginger's dad's book, because there were always more people and not always special things to give.

She could sign books too. That might be an idea.

Mom got a phone call as they headed inside the loft, so Dad stayed in the entry to hang up her coat and help her get her boots off. She was glad to have Dad a moment to herself and she made him stop and look at her with a hand on his shoulder. "Daddy, did we get Mom a Christmas present?" she whispered.

"We did," Dad said solemnly. "We picked it out a whole month ago."

"We did?" She didn't remember that.

"Your gift to Mom? Yes. It's a very soft cashmere sweater."

She frowned. "That's not very… much. For being Mom."

Dad chuckled. "Is it not? Would you like to go out tomorrow while Mom has to work?"

"Yeah. I… should bring my allowance."

"You don't need to do that, sweetheart."

"Castle?"

She froze, but Daddy straightened up and looked to Mom, a hand on her shoulder. "What's up?"

"I just got a call from Milo's mom."

She turned around, a faint tinge of uh-oh in the air. She thought she knew why Milo's mom would be calling, but that look on Mom's face wasn't easy to read.

"Milo okay?" Dad said.

Mom came to the foyer and sank to her knees, bent forward to grip her shoulders. "Hey, little star of the show, Milo's mom said you gave Milo your favorite skirt?"

She blew out a sigh of frustration. She thought Milo would hide it better. "Yeah. For Christmas."

Mom clutched her hands. "Okay. Baby. Your sequined skirt we made for your mermaid costume?"

"She gave Milo her skirt?" Daddy gasped. "Why did you do that?"

"I… it's Christmas," she squirmed. "Milo really loves it."

Mom met Dad's eyes. "Did you know… Christmas presents are for keeps? If you want your skirt back, Milo's Mom says—"

"Want it back?" she cried. "It's Christmas."

Mom pressed her lips together, a faint frown on her face.

Dad came to sit down on the step beside her, drew an arm around her waist for a squeeze. "You love that skirt. You wore it for months. You wore it just a few days ago, sweetheart. I think we're just… concerned that you gave away something you love so much."

She turned to her dad and clasped his head in her hands, her own face burning hot because they didn't understand. "You told me that Christmas was special. Mom—" she turned hotly to her mom, "you said Christmas is about how we love, and doing good things for people."

"I did. We did. You're right."

"Milo's my best best friend. He almost never gets to wear fun things, and I—I—I have all these things, all these fun things and beautiful things and I want him to have it too. For Christmas."

Dad kissed her cheek. "Okay. Okay, you're right." He looked at Mom. "Was Milo's mom… not okay with the skirt?"

"I told her it was part of a costume, and she seemed to be okay with that."

"Milo's mom is mean," she said, swiping at her eyes with the back of her hand.

"Oh, my fierce little raptor," Mom sighed, wrapping her up in a hug. "You did a very good thing, a very beautiful thing. For Christmas. I'm sorry that we're so surprised. We shouldn't at all be surprised."

"Did Milo get in trouble," she trembled.

"…No." There was a pause. "If Milo's mom asks you about it, you tell her it was a special costume, okay?"

Dad grunted. "What a close-minded—"

"Castle."

She glanced between her parents, but they were saying something with their faces that she couldn't understand.

Dad cupped her chin and kissed her cheek. "You, on the other hand, are a wonderful human being, and I'm so proud you're my daughter."

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